


A Quiet Pint

by Moriavis



Series: Finding ways to come together [6]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Drunk!Len, Established Relationship, Fluff, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Secret Identity, Slice of Life, St. Patrick's Day, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 07:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6274831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriavis/pseuds/Moriavis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry used to like St. Patrick's Day, but he's pretty sure people drink too much. Len included.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quiet Pint

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to saekhwa for the beta. She is awesome, as always. <3 <3
> 
> Here's another one of these never ending holiday fics, so I hope you all enjoy. :D

~*~

Barry raced through an intersection and stopped an accident from happening, grabbing a drunk girl when she tripped and fell off the curb. He set her upright before she could be hit by the car going through the green light. St. Patrick's Day was always terrible for Joe and the other cops at the precinct, so Barry thought it would be a good thing to help out. He'd been so, so wrong.

" _Another_ accident?" Barry asked Caitlin. "That's the fifth one you've given me tonight!"

"People are stupid when they drink," she pointed out. "I know I am. You probably were, too."

"Not this stupid," Barry complained. "You have no idea how much vomit I've dodged tonight."

"Ugh," Cisco said. "Don't tell us. I want to remain in the dark. We've got a fight breaking out four miles away from you."

"A fight, dude? Really?" Barry shook his head.

"It's a pretty big fight," Cisco said, and Barry sighed, already heading that way. 

The fight was bigger than he'd expected — a bar brawl that had spilled out onto the streets. Barry snatched each person between blows, separating them from their rivals. On one hand, he did stop the fight. On the other, every single person he moved out of the way got motion sickness and threw up on the sidewalk where he placed them.

"Guys, I'm giving up. The CCPD can handle the rest." Barry shook his head again, already sprinting home.

Cisco laughed. "Yeah, right."

"Good job, Barry," Caitlin said, also sounding more amused than the situation called for, in Barry's opinion. "Get some rest."

Barry didn't even bother with a response, flashing over to STAR Labs to get out of the suit before going home. He took a shower to get the smell of puke off of him and then lingered under the water for several minutes before he found the fortitude to get out.

His phone buzzed once, and then again, and Barry picked it up from his dresser. The messages were from Len, which surprised him. Len had said he'd be taking Mick out and that he probably wouldn't be available.

_Very drunk._ The first message said. _Miss you._

"Who knew you were such a sap?" Barry murmured. He shook his head at the phone and was in the process of sliding it into his back pocket when it buzzed again.

It was a photo this time, of a bright green drink sitting on a bar, the flash of the phone camera the only light. _Green FLASH cocktail. Ha._

Barry smacked his forehead with his palm and found himself responding. _Go to bed, loser. Your texting privileges are revoked._

_Do you think the lightning bolt counts as a Flash drink?_ Len texted anyway. _We disagree. Mick and I._

Barry imagined, for a moment, what that must look like, Len typing so carefully at his phone in a dim bar, and it made Barry smile despite himself. He took a quick survey of the house to make sure he was alone and then called Len, just to spare him the effort.

Len picked up on the second ring. "Barry." Len's voice was lazy, and Barry shuddered in reaction, his skin prickling just from the purr of Len saying his name over the phone. Frankly, that was getting embarrassing.

"Len, you're drunk texting me. It's time for you and Mick to go home."

"I'm not," Len disagreed, still with that same, slow drawl. "We're talking. Not texting."

Barry sighed. "Okay. Tell me where you are. I'll meet you there."

"No need," Len murmured. "Sara's here. Somewhere."

"That's not comforting." Barry hung up and flashed back out onto the streets, heading directly to Saints and Sinners. 

Sure enough, Mick and Len were sitting at the bar. Mick had his back turned to the door, his attention focused on a flaming drink in front of him, and Len sat half-turned on his stool, his side pressing against the bar as he surveyed the room. His sleeves were pushed up, revealing his scarred forearms, and Barry licked his lips, his heart picking up. Len so rarely showed skin that Barry felt he was starting to have a Pavlovian response, like he was a Victorian guy seeing a flash of ankle. 

Len took a sip of his drink, his mouth curling down just slightly in annoyance, and he set the drink down onto the bar again. The change in his face when he saw Barry was small, but obvious if you knew where to look — a lessening in tension around his shoulders, the boredom set in his eyes and face disappearing. The difference made it easier for Barry to walk over to the bar, passing Sara at the pool table and giving her a smile.

"Hey." At Barry's greeting, Len smiled, smug and pleased. "Surprise."

"You're here." Len offered his hand to Barry, and Barry took it, letting Len pull him into the vee of his legs, Barry's back to Len's chest. Len propped his chin on Barry's shoulder. "You found me."

"You weren't exactly hiding." Barry ducked his head, and when he looked up, Mick was staring at them. Barry stuck out his hand. "Barry Allen. Nice to meet you."

Mick grunted and blew out his drink, taking a swig. Barry let his hand drop. "So that's why you won't bang Sara," Mick said.

"I'm not banging Sara because we're not interested," Len corrected, rubbing his nose against Barry's collar. "Besides. She's got that little nurse in 1958."

"Right." Mick nodded. "Forgot about that."

"Besides—" Lisa popped up and draped an arm around Mick's shoulders, waggling her fingers at Barry in greeting. "Women actually choose who they sleep with now, Mick. Shocking, I know." Her eyes sharpened on Len, although her smile remained relaxed and teasing. "Looking cozy there."

Len's arms tightened around Barry's middle, and he hummed his agreement, resting his forehead between Barry's shoulder blades.

"They're so cozy, in fact," Lisa said, turning to Mick as though she was talking to him all along, even though Barry could see her smile grow sly, "that Barry has a key to Len's apartment, and apparently doesn't blink at the casual mention of time travel."

Len tensed against Barry, realizing his mistake, but Barry patted his arm, giving Lisa a wide, disbelieving smile. "Wait, wait, what? I just thought that was the alcohol talking." Barry turned in Len's arms and cupped his face, giving Len a grin. "You're telling me that I'm out with a world class time-travelling thief? No way."

The corner of Len's mouth curled into a smirk. "It's true. I travel through time, hunting down bad men."

Barry shook his head, his grin growing wider. "That sounds downright _heroic_."

Mick grunted, and Barry turned his head to watch Mick slam back a shot. "Sure sounds that way, huh?"

"Mick." Len curled his hands around Barry's wrists, pulling them down from his face, so he could look over Barry's shoulder. "We are too drunk, and there are too many people here to have that conversation."

"And with that," Barry said, drawing out of Len's arms and tugging him out of the stool, "I think it's time to go. You guys are too old to be drinking like this."

Mick glowered at Barry. "Never too old, twink."

"Right!" Barry said brightly, Len growing tense next to him again. "Great to meet you. Time to go." He prodded Len in the side, and after a moment, Len stepped aside to pay for the drinks and retrieve his credit card from the bartender. Once Len was done, Barry gave Lisa a wave. "Have a good night."

"Oh, yeah, it's going to be great," Lisa said dryly, looking at Mick again, but then she got a beer and made a shooing gesture at Barry as she headed over to the pool tables.

Barry rested his hand against Len's back and guided him out of the bar, relaxing when the door closed and he took a deep breath of the cool outside air.

"You didn't have to take that from him." Len was frowning, face averted, his profile in the dim parking lot light hard and angry.

Barry shook his head. "It's not me he's angry at." Barry curled his hand around Len's elbow and squeezed. "If I were him, I'd probably be angry, too."

"Didn't want to talk about it with him. Don't want to talk about it with you." Len took a step toward his bike, swayed on the second, and Barry stopped him before he took a third.

"You're not driving tonight." Barry looked around at the empty parking lot and then held out his arms. "Come on. I'll give you a ride."

Len smirked, curling his arms around Barry's torso and nipping at his jaw. "I bet you will."

Barry rolled his eyes and sighed. "You're the worst." He sped them back to Len's apartment, hoping the entire way that Len didn't get sick down his back. He didn't have to worry. Len's cheeks were a little flushed, his eyes glittering, but other than that, there was no change. Barry was even more grateful for that.

Len very carefully pulled his keys from his pocket and opened the door, dropping the keys into the bowl he kept at the entrance. "Safely home. My hero."

"Not finished quite yet," Barry said, and he got Len a glass of water before guiding Len to the bedroom, sitting him on the bed to undo Len's shoes.

"Good view," Len teased, and Barry rolled his eyes.

"Drink your water, jerk." Barry stood and watched Len drink the water, taking the glass only when he was satisfied.

"This may be my first St. Patrick's without a hook up," Len mused as he laid down on the bed.

"Is that what this was?" Barry asked. "A booty call? You've got to work on your game." Barry turned away to walk into the kitchen and set the empty glass in the sink. When he returned, Len was already asleep. He sighed and pulled the covers over Len so he wouldn't get too cold in his stupid frigid apartment, and then let himself out, locking the door behind him.

~*~


End file.
